


Take Hold of The Hand That Breaks The Fall

by Leannan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Gay Panic, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Mutual Pining, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Epilogue Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Work In Progress, listen, realisations will be had
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leannan/pseuds/Leannan
Summary: Harry Potter had a routine. Well, he also had other, more tangible things. He had Grimmauld place which he shared with Ron and Hermione. He had their friends who often spent most of their time there. He had his monthly dinners with the Weasleys. He had his numerous houseplants, all in various stages of life. He had his favourite grey mug that was littered with chips along the rim. But most importantly, Harry had a routine.And that routine certainly did not involve Draco Malfoy.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	Take Hold of The Hand That Breaks The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Will be updated.

Harry Potter had a routine. Well, he also had other, more tangible things. He had Grimmauld place left to him by Sirius which he shared with Ron and Hermione. He had their friends who often spent most of their time there. He had his monthly dinners with the rest of the Weasleys. He had his numerous houseplants, all in various stages of life. He had his favourite grey mug that was littered with chips along the rim. But most importantly, Harry had a routine. 

Sticking to a routine was one of the first things his therapist had suggested to him. She was a wonderful muggle woman named Marie. Harry never tried to go to counselling in the Wizarding world. It felt too close to home. He was tired of talking about the war. He had attended enough funerals and spoken at too many ceremonies. Truthfully, it was Hermione who suggested going to Marie. She and Ron had gone to one of her colleagues during the first year after the war. Harry didn’t know the ins and outs of their argument, only that Hermione wanted to work, and Ron wanted to settle down. But that was seven years ago now. They had all grown a lot since then. Harry liked to think he had changed more than most. 

His routine differed depending on what day it was. It started with smaller things: getting out of bed, getting dressed, eating a meal. Marie was firm in her belief that having a structured day was key in giving Harry control of his life. Which was true. Harry had a hard time adjusting from Hogwarts. Is there much left to do after defeating one’s arch nemesis? But Harry stuck to his routine and slowly things felt like they could be normal. Or, as close to normal as he could get. 

Which is why he was quite surprised when, on his way home from his weekly shop, he spotted Luna walking out of their usual café across the road. He came to a stop on the path which the other pedestrians did not appreciate. He panicked for a moment. Had he mixed up his days? He usually met up with Luna on a Thursday morning, not a Tuesday. Harry was just about to walk over to greet her when the café door opened behind her. Oh, she was with someone else. A man strode out. Harry leaned around people in his line of view to catch a glimpse. The man was too lean to be Neville. And the hair that poked out was far too light to belong to anyone he knew. Well, anyone except for—

“Malfoy?” Harry uttered in disbelief. 

He hadn’t meant to speak at all. A woman pushing a buggy eyed him curiously as she walked past. Malfoy? What the hell was Malfoy doing in London? The last time anyone had heard news of him he was somewhere in the east of France. Ron had snorted at the news and had bid a quick good luck to the French. Yet, here he was, seemingly having had lunch with Luna Lovegood of all people. 

Harry watched as Malfoy handed Luna her knitted scarf. Harry knew it was hers, simply because no other person would wear an orange scarf with pink and blue bobbles on it. She reached up and patted his pale cheeks. Harry would have laughed at how rigid Malfoy became as her hand contacted with his skin if the current situation was in any way regular. Luna casually slipped her arm through his and they strolled away. Harry tried to rub his eyes with his free hand and almost dislodged his glasses. What could Malfoy possibly have to say that would make Luna comfortable in his company.

Harry was determined not to let this disturb the rest of his day. The past was behind him and Malfoy no longer had any effect on his life. Harry meticulously put away his groceries and watered his plants. He fried the halloumi that was sitting in his fridge and forced himself not to think of anything. Malfoy was none of his concern. Luna was his friend and he trusted her to make her own, however misguided yet well-meaning, decisions. 

Keys clicked into the front door. Harry had gotten new locks when they moved in. He felt more at ease with physically opening the door than relying on magic to do it. The first week they all lived together, Ron had spent hours simply locking and unlocking the thing. Hermione had tried very hard to keep a neutral look on her face but a smile kept threatening to break out. 

Harry glanced at the white clock on the wall. Its round frame was once a bright yellow, but direct sunlight had stolen its colour. Was it five already? 

"Hey Harry," Hermione greeted him distractedly as she pushed past him to arrange her notes on the sturdy kitchen table. Her wild curls were twisted back into what Harry assumed was once a neat bun. Now it rather resembled one of Molly's balls of wool that had threads poking out in every direction. She looked as lovely as she always did. "How was your day?" 

"I saw Luna having lunch with Malfoy." The words forced themselves out of Harry's mouth.

Hermione stopped shuffling her papers and turned to face him. Her eyebrows were raised. 

"As in Draco Malfoy?"

Harry tried very hard in not rolling his eyes. 

“Unless you know of another Malfoy,” he said. 

Hermione graciously didn’t react to Harry’s pointed words. She didn’t appear as shocked as Harry felt. 

“Are you sure it was him this time?” She questioned. 

Now Harry did roll his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you; it was dark, and the bloke was blonde.” Really, when was that going to be dropped. Harry is never going out with Seamus and Dean alone again. Seamus knows far too many drinking games. People get mistaken for others all the time. What did that have to do with anything? 

Hermione forcibly bit her lip. It didn’t work. Harry could still see the smile starting in the corners of her mouth. Harry sighed. 

“Did you know they’ve been talking?” Harry asked her. 

The smile quickly vanished from Hermione’s face. 

“I didn’t,” she admitted as she tucked back dark fallen hairs behind her ears. Harry watched her. He knew she was hiding something. She reverted into a scared second year standing in front of Snape’s glowering eyes whenever she felt caught out. 

“Well don’t you think its weird?” He asked her. Hermione looked down at her hands. She seemed almost resigned. 

She took a breath before speaking. “Harry, I have to show you something.” 

Hermione quickly went into the living room. Harry felt rooted to the floor. He had to remind himself to maintain his heart rate. Hermione came back into the kitchen holding a small square envelope that was covered in an elegant script. 

“I didn’t know Luna was on speaking terms with Draco,” she starts, “but he wrote us a letter a few months ago. While he was in France.” 

Harry stared at her. The kitchen was starting to feel smaller. “Malfoy wrote us a letter?” 

“He wrote letters to Ron and me,” she clarified, “mostly just apologizing for how he acted growing up in school and everything he did during it all.” Hermione looked nervously at Harry. He felt like he was submerged in the cramped bath upstairs and that his ears were plugged with water. 

“Malfoy wrote you and Ron letters.” He stated. 

“Yes,” Hermione confirmed. 

“From France?”

“Yes.” 

“What the fuck.” 

“I know.” 

“Why wasn’t I told about this?” He questioned her. 

Hermione gave him a look. Harry could feel a long familiar sense of annoyance build up in his stomach. 

“What.” 

Hermione bit her lip again. “Harry, you don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to him. It’s not that we wanted to keep it a secret. You’ve just been doing so well lately, and I didn’t want anything to ruin that.” 

Harry scoffed. He wasn’t a child anymore. He could look after himself. 

“Mon, I hardly think knowing Malfoy wrote a letter is going to mess up my life.” 

Hermione grimaced. “Harry, I actually meant that, well, you get a bit too invested in Draco.” 

Harry felt his jaw fall. “He was in with the death eaters.”

Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She couldn’t be serious. Surely, she of all people hadn’t forgotten what he was like. This was Malfoy for Gods sake. 

“I’m not saying you didn’t have very good reasons in going after him before,” Hermione admits as she smooths out the lines in her trousers. “I’m just saying that even back then you made it your business to find out his.” 

Harry was saved from asking exactly what it was she was getting at when the door banged open again. 

“Hey guys,” Ron bellowed from the hallway. Upon entering the kitchen, he took in Harry’s crossed arms and eyed the letter in Hermione’s hands. “Um. Bad timing?” 

Harry huffed and brushed past him as he left the kitchen. He didn’t need to hear Hermione lecture him in front of Ron. He got to the top of the steps when he heard their voices rise up from the kitchen. He paused and leaned over the banisters. He could barely make out Hermione's hushed explanation. Then Ron’s loud laughter spread out and upwards. 

“Is he sure it was him this time?”


End file.
